Natalia
There was nowhere to go.
As he approached, the shape and size of the sailboat—sails falling down at that moment—reached my eyes. And even that far away, I recognized Alaric’s swift grace in the gray figure that hopped around on the deck. He stood, and seemed to be staring in my direction.
“Oh, God,” I whispered. “Oh God, oh God.”
I turned around and then the other way, making the boat shift side to side. Could he see me? Did he see me? Where could I go?
The dull roar of the boat motor skipped across the water toward me. I looked around again. There was nowhere to go. The boat was advancing, Alaric’s figure, solid and angry-looking even at this distance at the helm. The boat was pointed right toward me.
My stomach dropped. The boat was fast; there was no doubt he was coming toward me.
No doubt he had plans to kill me.
I shrugged off the life vest and looked at the water. Maybe he hadn’t seen me. Maybe I could make it look like the boat had capsized, and I was gone.
And then what?
I didn’t know. But it would buy me some more time. Even as I did it, I thought it was dumb.
I tossed the lifejacket out at the open water. Then I jumped in. It was far colder than I had expected—nothing like the warm water of the cove. I gasped and flailed my arms, and fought to control myself. I reached for the edge of the boat and dunked down, then up, and then plunged down again, pulling hard on the boat with me.
It tipped, but not enough to capsize it.
I had never been on any kind of boat but a rowboat and a paddleboat, so I didn’t realize that this boat wouldn’t capsize because of its keel, at least not from me tugging it. The boat was heavier than me.
I held on to the side and looked behind me at the blue water. That’s when the panic set in. I started kicking and flailing, and then I lost my grip on the boat. I was drowning, and I was sure I was going to die, and even though saving myself would just make me last until someone came to kill me, my body wouldn’t let me just give up without a fight.
And then, everything was greenish blue, and I started to think maybe I should just give up.
But something hooked me around the waist, and I was emerging violently from that dream before I could give into it.
I gasped for air and kicked and fought, and then I felt myself getting tipped back. As soon as I was supine, I lost all the will to fight, realizing how tired I was. I wasn’t a good swimmer, or even a good drowner, and I just felt resigned.
This is it, I thought, my eyes stinging with saltwater. I saw Alaric’s arm across my chest, and the blue water. My eyes filled up with tears, which actually felt good, because of the salt.
And then, he hoisted me up, and I was on the deck of the sailboat, and he was standing over me, yelling.
“Natalia!”
A slap hit me hard across the face. I coughed. Water came out of my mouth.
Alaric lifted his wrist to his mouth, as though to wipe it, and stood up. He was panting heavily. Water dripped from his body. He wore only water shorts from the day before and a gun strapped around his thigh.
I stared at it.
“What thefuck,” he panted. “What the fuck were you doing?”
I wasn’t listening.
I reached out, lunging with all the strength I had left, and got as far as touching my fingertips to the gun.
Alaric moved faster than a panther and grabbed my wrist, pulling me up at the same time so that I was near his face and standing on tiptoe. He had somehow grabbed the gun with his other hand and brought it up to my face to show it to me. “This?” he shouted at me.
He stuffed the gun into my free hand, dropping my wrist and closing the fingers of both hands around it. “Is that what you want? You want to shoot me, Natalia?”
He stepped back, shaking his head, his eyes icy cold and yet blazing. He extended his arms and gave a laugh. The gun was heavy in my hands.
